


104.2 (art)

by Thruterryseyes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Hallucinates, Dean-Centric, Fever Dreams, Gen, Hell, Sick Dean Winchester, Supernatural Art, Worried Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 09:21:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10941546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thruterryseyes/pseuds/Thruterryseyes
Summary: More art. High fever Dean reliving all his hells while Sam watches his fever climb higher.An anon poster wrote a short piece to go with it and gifted it to me  and I included it.





	104.2 (art)

Okay, an anonymous poster wrote a piece for this pic and I'm adding it here to make sure no one misses it. I reformatted it a little so apologies to them, but otherwise, it's as written. I really liked it and wanted to make sure people saw it in case they missed it in the comments.

 

Sam hears the rustle of sheets for what feels like the hundredth time that night as he jerks awake guiltily, getting up from his sprawled position on the ground next to the tiny bed and moving to sit next to his brother.  
Dean’s writhing under the thin sheets again, face etched with pain and his lips open slightly, panting. "S’m,“ he moans, "S'mmy.”  
Sam can’t do anything but bite his lip, swallowing hard as he puts a hand on his brother’s blazing forehead and brushes Dean’s hair back.

"Dean,“ he says softly, wetly, and there’s so much love in that one syllable Sam thinks his heart might burst. "Dean, man, s'okay, you’re fine.” Except that’s so far from the truth that Sam wants to laugh because he’s tried to keep Dean’s wound as clean as possible but they’re in a cabin in the middle of nowhere and Dean’s been running a temperature of 104 for the larger part of the night and the soft keening noises Dean keeps making tells him how bad it really is. Sam feels as though everything is collapsing, and there’s a roaring in his ears that makes him dizzy. But he can’t do anything about any of it besides put the steadily warming cold pack back on his brother’s forehead and catch the hand that comes up to dislodge it.

He keeps hold of Dean’s hand, squeezing it in his and leaning forward to run his thumb back and forth along Dean’s temple. Dean mumbles something and shifts, the action pulling at his wounded side and this time he lets out a moan that’s almost a cry and Sam’s eyes fill again and he brushes at them impatiently because he can’t succumb to this right now, he has to figure something out, has to save his brother.

"Sam,“ Dean grounds out again, straining against some invisible evil. "No, please, pl'se- please-”  
Sam shuts his eyes tightly, doesn’t know what Dean’s seeing, isn’t sure if he wants to know, soothes with a gentle “Dean, I’m right here, right here, man, you’re gonna be fine,” and Dean starts shivering and he knows he needs to cool him down but he can’t stand the sight of it, the little pained noises Dean’s making on the tail ends of his pants, so he pulls the sheets further up his brother’s body, resumes the stroking of Dean’s hair.

Dean lets out a sob and Sam fights one back himself, letting his head tilt back against the wall as the tears fall and he prays to God that for once, just once, someone will help them.


End file.
